


you could give an aspirin the headache of its life

by tsuchakos



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types, Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (TV 2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, background fred/shaggy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuchakos/pseuds/tsuchakos
Summary: She watches, baffled, as Alice crumbles and looks away, leaving Daphne to grin smugly and flip her hair as she turns to the front of the room again.Velma tries to make eye contact with her to silently ask what the hell that was. She is ignored.Velma gets a job, Daphne gets frustrated, and they both misunderstand a few things.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hiya!! i hope lifes treating u well
> 
> idk if? anyone will read this considering how there isnt really a scooby doo fandom, but its fun to write! and thats all that matters
> 
> there isn't much daphne in this chapter but im trying to establish things first!!

"A job?"

Velma looks up from her screen to see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at her. "What? We're young adults. Of course I've been job hunting. Haven't you?"

Shaggy looks uncomfortably contorted, turning his torso towards her but keeping his legs swung over Fred's lap. Fred, to his credit, looks surprised but supportive. Daphne, from where she's lying on a beanbag with her head hanging upside down, frowns. None of them say anything. They just blink at her like she's grown an extra limb - impressed, but concerned.

They're all snuggled up in Daphne's basement (a room that's probably twice the size of Velma's bedroom) on a Thursday after school, as they usually are. It's always either this or them all sprawled about Fred's van in the carpark just a five minute drive from campus, with it's nice view of the dog park and five minute walk to their favourite burger van. Sometimes Daphne will be out with her friends from class, but she'll always be talking to their group chat the whole time about how Stacy or Sally or something just assumed that her favourite colour is purple when it's really green, or talked about how she's been going vegetarian and then immediately ate a chicken nugget. Velma doesn't want to judge these people that she doesn't even know, but she gets the feeling that Daphne only goes out with them out of obligation. She wishes she didn't feel like she needed to do that - things have always been fine with the four of them and Scooby. And, obviously, the other nice people in their classes, but no one can blame her for not focusing on them as much. 

Shaggy frowns even deeper, turning to Fred seemingly for guidance. "Uh... should we... be job hunting?"

And even though Velma knows for a fact that he doesn't know what he's talking about, Fred nods sagely, absently fiddling with the baggy material around Shaggy's knees. "Yes. It's important for learning responsibility. Or, that's what my dad told me once."

"Mine said I don't need to get a job yet. I think he'd actually get mad if I got one," Daphne sighs, picking up her phone. "Which kinda sucks, to be honest. I mean, I get that we have the money, but I still want the experience."

"Why would he be mad?" Velma asks, thinking that she doesn't really want to hear the answer.

"He probably thinks it'd make me look poor, or something equally shitty."

"Where is it, Velm?" There's an approaching patter, and as Scooby walks in, Shaggy reaches out to pet him without even thinking about it. It took a lot of effort to get Daphne's parents on board with the whole 'randomly bringing a dog over every now and then' concept, but they seem to love Scooby now just as much as everyone else. It's hard not to. "Like, the job. Where you're workin'."

Her eyes are once again trained on her screen, but she's always been good at typing and talking. Fred says it's her superpower. ”That new cafe that opened around the corner." She reaches for her mug and takes a sip without looking. "It's not the best job in the world, but it's good pay for a not-Starbucks."

"A not-Starbucks," Daphne murmurs, smirking at her screen.

"That's what it is." Putting her laptop aside for a second to actually engage in the conversation leaves her with the free hands to wipe her glasses, and the blur of the lamp light freaks her out a bit. "I'm starting next week on all my free periods and outside of school hours, so savour the sight of my face while you can."

Daphne snaps her face to look at her. "What?"

"As long as it doesn't interfere with mystery solving."

Velma snorts. "It was the lunch lady in a Halloween mask, Fred, we didn't solve anything."

"You can't overwork yourself like that," Daphne says indignantly, turning to sit upright on the beanbag. "We have exams in a few weeks. You'll die."

Velma smiles fondly and shakes her head to try and dismiss some of Daphne’s (unjustified) concern. "I'll be fine, Daph. I've never had a problem with exams, you know that." It sounds like bragging, but it's true. She's always the one who helps them all cram the night before - she's more prepared to teach tired overly-caffeinated teenagers chemical formulas than their actual teachers.

"But--" Daphne splutters. "You will if you spend all your time in a not-Starbucks!"

Fred perks up a bit, looking at them all with bright eyes. "We can visit you when you're working?"

"No, please don't do that. At least not regularly. If you distract me too much they'll probably fire me."

"Score," Daphne mutters. No one reacts.

"Plus, it's not like us not being together 24/7 will shatter the Earth, or anything," Velma says, gesturing about the room. "This is nice, and I love it, but we're all busy sometimes. And, anyway, you can just hang out without me."

As if promoted by that lonely-sounding sentiment, Scooby approaches Velma and climbs cautiously onto her lap, licking her cheek. She pets him behind the ears.

Shaggy pouts. “But it’s just, like... it’s not the same without you.”

It’s the sweetest thing to hear and she feels her shoulders relax a bit, like it softens her, but she laughs anyway. Daphne’s still looking at her from the corner of her eye. She feels a little bit dizzy. She doesn’t know if there’s any correlation there. “We sat in silence for three hours earlier. I hardly think it makes a difference.”

“But-”

“Fred!” they hear from upstairs. It’s shrill, and it’s the voice Daphne’s mom uses when there’s a visitor over. “The sheriff is here for you! Something about your father?”

Quickly, Fred’s eyes widen in panic and he shoves Shaggy off of him, leaving his victim’s leg to bash against the arm rest (“Dude - ow!”), and he grabs his jacket from the floor as he stands. “Dangit - I forgot -”

Finally seeming to shake off the conversation, Daphne puts a hand on his arm. He stills for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“My Dad wanted me to have dinner with him and the Sheriff tonight. Something about ‘getting to know each other’.” He shoulders his jacket and roots around his pockets to make sure he has his phone. “Crazy, right? I already know the Sheriff. We all do. Anyway - see you tomorrow, guys!” He grabs his bag and barely gets it on before he’s up the steps.

They all watch him go, and distantly hear the front door click shut not a minute later.

Velma clears her throat. “I’m gonna pretend I didn't hear that, I think.”

“None of our business,” Daphne agrees.

Shaggy bewilderedly rubs at his knee.

**

Velma spends the whole weekend locked in her room studying. She asks her dad to bring all of her dinners into her room, and she leaves her phone locked under her pillow from an hour after she wakes up to an hour before she sleeps. Her room stays fairy tidy, as it usually is, but her pens stay sprawled about her desk and her bed is the official resting place of piles upon piles of notebooks and textbooks. Every night when she checks her phone, she catches up on whatever happened in the group chat while she was gone and finds all the selfies and little updates about her day that Daphne sends her. She sleeps like a log, and wakes up feeling light and happy. She makes the most of her last days of freedom.

At 3:40pm on Monday, her and Daphne are standing against the brick wall at the school gate, having just been freed from class and waiting for Fred to pull up in the van. He offered to give her a lift to her first shift, even though it’s so close, and she let him because she thinks he’s probably the most upset about her ‘skipping out’ on their group time. Daphne clears her throat. “So, what time do you get off?”

“Eight, I think,” Velma says, adjusting the bag strap on her shoulder and looking at her friend. Daphne isn’t looking back - she’s staring at something on her phone - but her expression flinches as if she had to consciously stop herself from turning. Velma doesn’t think that matters, logically, but she likes to pay attention. “It would be later but they’re closing early today. Something to do with the manager having family plans.”

Daphne frowns. “The mana-- do they have to be there?”

“It’s a really small shop. That’s why I’ve got so many hours,” she explains like it’s the basest common sense. “They barely have anyone employed. It’s me and one other person.”

“Hm? Anyone we know?”

“Alice May? She’s in our Spanish, I think.” As she says it she can feel herself getting a bit sheepish. She knows more about Alice May than she should. Back in freshman year she’d been a little bit too captivated by how platinum her platinum blonde hair was and how perfectly it curls at the ends. It fairly quickly soured from unprompted adoration to unprompted dislike, though, so she didn’t feel awkward working with her. She just didn’t like talking about it with Daphne. “Sits behind you.” 

Daphne’s face barely moves, but somehow the emotion behind her eyes feels distant to Velma, like it’s something she can’t touch. It’s gone in a second, though, and she watches as the taller girl pouts, sliding her phone into her pocket. “I don’t think she likes me. I don’t know why. The first time she ever talked to me, she told me that her hair was better styled than mine and walked away.”

Velma thinks back to how them as freshmen. “Well.”

Gasping theatrically, Daphne smacks her on the arm, but she can’t stop the laugh from leaking through. “Hey! Don’t agree!”

“I’m not! I’m just saying--”

The sound of a groaning engine breaks their focus and they turn just as Fred yells “Get in, please, ladies!”, leaning with his torso half out of the window like a woman taking the train to the country and dramatically waving goodbye to her husband as she pulls out of the station. Daphne rolls her eyes good-naturedly and climbs into the shotgun seat while Velma gets in the back, as they always do, and Velma finds Shaggy lying on his back on the floor with Scooby across his stomach. She tells him it’s a safety hazard. He gives her a thumbs up and bumps his head as soon as the vehicle starts moving.

They drop her off at the front door and then they're gone, and she walks in.

She's been there a few times - once for lunch, once for her interview - but she still takes a moment to look around. The tables are small and look a bit like they'd rock if you leaned on them too hard, and they're scattered around the floor of the cafe more liberally than they should be for a space so small. While the chairs seem the same in quality, she can’t think much else about them considering that half of them are still stacked in the corner. There's a single customer with fluffy brown hair and a large chin sitting in the corner staring down at a business textbook, and she sees him fidget with the purple ascot around his neck. They make eye contact and he scowls.

The pastel blue of the walls is fairly calming, and the glass case boasting homemade cakes and bread is organised in terms of icing colour, and overall the vibe of the room is homely, right down to the low-budget-ness of it all. Just as she's walking up to the counter, a middle aged woman carrying a plate of biscuit packets walks out from the kitchen. She sets it against the cash register and places a handwritten $2.50 label in the middle of it. She looks up and sees her watching politely, and smiles.

“Velma! You're early. I love that.”

She thinks back to her interview with Brian, and remembers him explaining that he co-owns the business with his beautiful wife of twenty-seven years called Grace who he loves very much. Her voice sounds like a slowly developing American accent fighting against a lifelong British one, just like his did. Velma smiles back and holds out her hand for the shaking. “I figured it would help to get my training out of the way. It's nice to meet you.”

Grace shakes her head and puts a hand over Velma’s, gently pushing it down. “Don't worry about the formalities, we don't mind any of that. And, about the training,” she continues while she counts the money in the register, giving her a friendly glance. “I told Alice to come in this afternoon, and I thought I'd let her handle you for today, if that's alright, since I'm busy with the boring stuff. I remember you saying you have experience, so it shouldn't be too hard for you to catch up! And Alice is a lovely girl, I'm sure you'll get along.”

Velma smiles cautiously. She’s sat a seat away from Alice for three years, and hasn't talked to her for two of them. “I'm sure we will.”

Her half-hearted enthusiasm is apparently good enough because Grace’s smile only widens, her nose scrunching up a little. She's a short, plump woman, with her greying hair held in an afro puff by what looks like a random bit of blue patterned cloth. She's wearing a flowy large dress of the same colour, and she strikes Velma as the kind of person to wear that kind of style all the time. Grace glances subtly at the boy sitting in the corner before gesturing to Velma, leading her behind the counter and through a white door into the break room. “There's a changing room through there, and you can claim any of the lockers that Alice hasn't already. Did Brian give you your uniform?” Velma shakes her head, and Grace sighs, already turning on her heel. “Alright, it should be upstairs. If you just stay here, I'll go get it for you.”

She leaves. Velma shrugs off her bag and jacket, surveying the new area. The walls are white and peeling, more unkempt than the fresh blue behind her, and there's a set of nine square lockers at the back of the room that each look like they could hold her clothes or her bag, but not both. She must be right about that, because as she approaches them she sees that the whole top row has ‘ALICE MAY’ written on them in angry black sharpie. She decides to take the middle three, stuffing her coat into one and her bag into the other after fishing out her phone and putting it in her pocket. She turns and notices the small-ish table in the corner which presents a kettle and a clear bread bin full of half-eaten cookie packets. Glancing into the cupboard above it, she finds tea bags, coffee beans, and a few mugs that look like they were probably bought straight from Brian and Grace’s home. She closes it, figuring it's probably rude to make herself a drink when she's only just arrived. Besides, she doesn't know where the milk is.

“Excuse me?” A voice comes from behind her, dripping in niceties. “Are you supposed to be back here?”

Turning, she sees Alice May standing by the door and can’t stop herself from cringing. She knew this would be uncomfortable at first. Just seeing her standing there with her condescendingly fake smile is enough to make her shoulders tense. She’s dressed in her usual black and green, her hair as perfectly platinum as ever, and by the look on her eyes she wants to be anywhere but where she is. Velma tries a smile. “Yes, I am. I’m working here now.”

“You’re… oh. Ok.” Weirdly, the girl’s tone seems surprised, despite the fact that Brian told her that he warned Alice about her arrival. There’s a beat of silence and Alice’s eyes narrow curiously. “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”

Velma wants to push down her irritation but judging by Alice’s slowly morphing expression she doesn’t do a very good job. “We’ve taken Spanish together for three years.”

“Oh, Alice! Good afternoon,” Grace reappears in the doorway like magic, a pile of ironed and folded clothes in her hand. The second she does, Alice’s face slips to one of the most pleasant girl in the world, like she’s here to make Grace a coffee and talk about how her son’s doing in school.

“Hi, Grace!” Alice chirps pleasantly. “How’s your son?”

Grace walks past her and places the uniform in Velma’s hands with a smile. “He’s good, thank you. Brian did tell you why we asked you to come in today, didn’t he?”

Alice frowns. “No.”

“God, that man - I give him a few simple jobs,” Grace mutters, the rest of the sentence trailing off into incomprehensible noises. She flicks the kettle on and turns to lean with her back against the table. “He was supposed to let you know that you’d be showing Velma here around. Show her the ropes, and all that. Is that ok with you?”

There’s a pause, and Alice’s expression stays frozen. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you. I’ll be up in my office, then.” Grace waves happily, and she’s gone again.

The uncomfortable silence settles, as Alice turns and openly stares at Velma, her expression now completely void of positivity and instead showing what must be annoyed confusion.

Velma suppresses a scoff. “If you’re thinking about the Spanish class thing, I literally sit one seat away from you.”

“Hm,” she hums in response, as if that’s a good enough apology for not noticing Velma’s existence at all. They both glance at the changing room, and Alice grips her bag while gesturing to it with her thumb.

“As your superior, I’m going in first.”

Most of the shift passes in a similar fashion. Once they’re both in uniform, Alice gives her a very brief tour of the cafe’s three areas (the main floor, the break room, and the kitchen - upstairs was off limits) and explains the cash register in her most monotone voice. It’s as if she’s trying to prove how disinterested she is in Velma’s existence, like it’s something important. Velma thinks it’s unnecessary, but it’s not worth saying anything. She hasn’t cared about what Alice May thinks about her for a long time. She thinks back to what Daphne said earlier, and she cares even less. Once she understands the register and the general system by which the place runs, there’s not really much else for Alice to explain, so the blonde stands at the counter while Velma wipes down tables and tries not to make eye contact.

At around six o’clock, Velma is in the kitchen taking inventory when she hears Alice announce confidently; “Are you done yet, or do you just live here now?” Curiosity piqued, she leans her head around the doorway and sees the girl standing with her hands on her hips, seemingly having a staring contest with the boy at the corner table and winning. He looks angry, but Alice has a point - he was already there when Velma arrived, and he’s barely moved since, which is an excessive amount of time for any customer to spend in a cafe.

“Isn’t there a certain rule against being so rude to your customers?” He snaps back, one hands grip on his textbook tightening.

Alice scoffs and looks away with a smug smile. “Oh, fuck off, Rung, I could have kicked you out hours ago. Study at home.” Velma gapes. She’s never seen an employee tell a customer to fuck off so casually. She’d never even heard Alice May swear before. She’s more like the girl who’ll compliment your hair then turn around and tell the whole school that you’re carrying a contagious disease. Luckily, there were no other customers around to hear it, but she does wonder if the owners know about this attitude - not that she was gonna tell them, not when it’s this harmless. 

Rung tries to stare her down some more, his expression sour, but Alice doesn’t budge. Eventually he huffs and slams his textbook shut with a slam. “Fine,” he spits, shooting to his feet and stepping away from the table. Velma notices that he’s wearing a multi-coloured suit, and every colour on it is ugly. He marches to the door, still not breaking eye contact. After a moment of silence, he bites out “I’ll see you tomorrow,” and leaves with drama.

Alice ‘fuck off’ May sighs and sags her shoulders, and Velma could swear she can see some kind of fond smile on her face. Velma’s leaning against the doorframe now, and she can’t help but speak out. “What… was that?”

Alice’s head whips around, looking at Velma as if she knew she was there but expected her to just accept that conversation without a word. “Nothing. I just know him.”

“Pretty well, it seems,” Velma says with a tilt of her head, smiling to make her prying seem a bit less intrusive. “I wouldn’t tell just anyone to fuck off while I’m on the clock.”

“Why do you sound like you’re going to interrogate me?” Alice strides past her to grab a strawberry from the fridge. Velma changes the inventory sheet accordingly. “I know your group likes to pretend you’re detectives, but you’re really not.” Velma feels like she swallowed a lemon - she hates when people bring this up like it’s something to be embarrassed about. After the lunch lady incident, Fred began to boast about how they all have their ‘mystery machine’ where they ride around and bring the town’s supernatural villains to justice, which is a little embarrassing, but Fred just likes to get lost in his own little stories. She loves being silly and having a good time with her friends, and no one can shame her for that.

“I’m not interrogating you, I’m just curious. What’s wrong with that?”

“Maybe because I literally met you a few hours ago.”

“Spanish class for three years.”

“Fine! Stop bringing that up. We’re friends,” Alice snaps, turning her head so that her hair whips prettily. “Our parents are friends. He’s a bratty rich kid and that’s the best way to deal with him.”

Amusedly, Velma cocks her head to the side. “Aren’t you a bratty rich kid?”

“Don’t assume shit about me. Get back to taking inventory, Grace wants that before you leave.” Alice ‘shit’ May turns away again, and Velma stares just a bit longer. It’s weird hearing her voice so much. Apparently getting the hint that Velma wasn’t walking away yet, she continues. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of mystery when all anyone knows about you at school is that you’re a know-it-all lesbian who forced the canteen to get rid of pizza to make room for salads.”

Velma raises her eyebrows at that. “All of that is true, yes. I’d say that’s plenty to know about me. It’s not like people gossip about my favorite chip flavour.”

Alice smirks, and it’s the closest to a genuine smile she’s seen all day. “There are rumours about you, though.”

“What?” She leans back a little. It’s hard to believe - she’s always been convinced that she flew just enough below the radar to not have to deal with stuff like that. Her coming out gave her a bit more attention than she’d wanted, but it had blown over quickly - there’s plenty of people in their year who’ve come out over the last few years that it was barely a blip. “What kind of rumours?”

Alice considers her for a moment. “If I tell you some, can you confirm or deny?”

“Alright. I don’t see why not.”

Alice leans on her elbows and catches Velma with a challenging look. “Did you drug the school rabbits once for an experiment?”

She flinches. “Jinkies, no.”

“Do you have a slightly friendlier doppelganger who you sometimes send into school in your place?”

“No, I just smile at people sometimes. Like everyone does.”

“Ok, real shit now.” Velma wonders what ‘real shit’ is supposed to mean, and adjusts her collar a little bit where it’s been digging into her neck. “You and Daphne Blake; together or not?”

She sucks a breath in between her teeth. That got too personal for her way too quickly. The implication that people have looked at her and Daphne and thought ‘couple’ sends blood rushing to her face, and Alice must be able to tell, because her smirk grows. “I knew it,” she mutters, tone triumphant. “This is adorable.”

The way she says ‘adorable’ makes Velma’s skin crawl. She doesn’t know Alice. She doesn’t know how much she’s internally judging her for this, or how much she would if she knew the truth of it. She doesn’t know Alice well enough to talk about her hopeless feelings for Daphne - she doesn’t even talk to Shaggy about it, even though he knows full well. Velma isn’t the kind of person who talks about emotions with people. She’s been liking Daphne for long enough that she’s had plenty of opportunities to tell someone, or even tell her, but sometimes shes too embarrassed about it to say it to herself.

“No, no, no,” Velma shakes her head, urging herself to come off as nonchalant by putting on her best debate voice. “We’re not. We’re just friends. Seriously. Just because I’m gay doesn't mean I’m secretly dating every girl I’m close to.”

Somehow, Alice’s expression becomes even more condescending. “Please, no one’s saying that. It’s just that Daphne is the only girl you’re close to.”

“Untrue. I’m friends with Marcie Fleach.”

“Oh yeah? How often do you see Marcie Fleach?”

Once a week. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Sure,” Alice says, dripping with sarcasm, sounding like she’s on top of the world, and Velma barely notices that she isn’t meeting her eyes. “Nothing you say is gonna change my mind. Don’t worry, though, I won’t tell anyone.”

Velma burns.

They hear rapid steps approaching. “Girls, we’re closing at seven instead,” Grace announces as she enters the room, sounding slightly out of breath. “Please pack up.”

“Even earlier?” Velma’s thankful for the change in subject, adjusting her collar again. “Why?”

Grace is at the front door, changing the sign to say ‘closed’ and placing chairs on tables. “My son’s school performance is starting earlier than we thought. I’m sorry your first day was so hectic, Velma, but it couldn’t really be helped. It’s usually a lot calmer than this.”

She doesn’t mention that they’ve had about three customers her whole shift.

“Jason’s performing tonight?” Alice perks up, her friendliest face thrown back on. Velma really, really wants to roll her eyes. “Tell him I said good luck.”

“He’s never met you, so I won’t, but thank you for the sentiment, dear.”

By the time Velma is walking out of the building, back in her normal clothes and feeling like she’s barely done any work at all, it’s starting to get dark out. Alice ‘fuck off’ ‘shit’ May walks in the opposite direction and doesn’t say goodbye. She can’t decide if she was right about her or not - she’s not as awful as Velma expected her to be, and she even held conversation with her, but the conversation left her blushing and uncomfortable, and other than that Alice spent the whole time glaring whenever they made accidental eye contact. And now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t really understand how Alice came out with those rumours when she had no idea who Velma even was. So she must be lying about something. Probably just to fuck with her.

She remembers that her phone is sitting in her skirt pocket, and she fishes it out to find she has twenty-three unseen snaps from Daphne. Flicking through them, twenty-two of them being similarly unflattering photos of Fred, Shaggy, and Daphne herself. Velma screenshots the best ones. The last one is a close up of Daphne’s face with the text ‘i miss u :(‘ over it. She replies with ‘I missed you too’ and ‘It was weird, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow’. Daphne sends a purple heart in response almost immediately..

She remembers what Alice said earlier and feels her chest tighten. She sends a yellow one back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velma knows the definition of most words, but not jealousy, apparently.

"Ah, motherfu-"

"Daphne," her dads says from the living room, voice pleasant but with an edge of warning, not quite loud enough to yell but loud enough to interrupt. " _Honey_. There'll be none of that."

Cursing herself in a completely inaudible mutter, Daphne lightly kisses the end of her finger where it was burned, glaring down at the boiling kettle like it was to blame for her slip up. Her hair is down and free and therefore covers the whole width of her shoulders, and her roots are growing back but she's been talking about letting her roots grow anyway because she thinks it looks cool. The toes of her boots are now wet with tea water, and she taps them one at a time against the floor to get rid of the excess.

Velma decides it's best to stay in the doorway. She clears her throat. "Hey, Daph."

Although Daphne can't have heard her come in she doesn't seem very surprised to hear her voice, turning and giving her a smile that was as pleased as it was tired. "Velm," she says, sounding relieved, probably just to see someone who isn't her dad. "Hi. How was work?"

She looks so tired, and Velma wants to hug her, but she's had some issues with that ever since The Big Feelings Realisation nearly a year ago. Prolonged physical contact isn't good for subtlety - she definitely enjoys it, but avoids it when she can. "I don't work mornings." Velma knows that Daphne is lying about forgetting this - she's learned Velma's timetable by heart over the last few weeks - but she can't think of why, so she lets it go.

Daphne nods, staring at the floor with a blank expression before looking back up with the same unenthusiastic smile. "Sorry. I'm in a bit of a weird mood."

A beat passes. "Do you wanna talk about it?" 

"I don't know," Daphne sighs, dumping what was left of her tea down the sink and turning to lean against the counter. "I'm just stressed about some things."

"Some things?"

When Daphne frowns, her eyes become a bit less cloudy. Her eyes open a bit wider, like they normally are - big and expressive and great. "Isn't it kinda weird that I've barely seen you in, like, three days?"

"We eat lunch together," Velma says with a smile. "And classes and stuff. You see me a normal amount."

Daphne grumbles. "It's not normal for us."

Carefully, Velma steps into the room and puts her bag down. She hears Daphne's dad get up from where he was sitting in the couch and go upstairs. Daphne in a bad mood is a difficult minefield to cross, but she has years of experience under her belt. When she's more upset than angry, she just needs someone to be patient with her, and if there's anyone who can bring out Velma's patient side, it's Daphne. She doesn't say anything, instead opting to just look at Daphne with a controlled expression, waiting to see what she decides to do next. Leaving the ball in her court.

Daphne leans back, her arms crossed and pouting pensively. She scuffs her heel against the floor. "I'm worried. About," there's a pause and she looks through her eyelashes at Velma, before her expression tightens again and she looks away. "About all the exams. Who knows how I'll do without Miss Dinkley's free tutoring sessions."

Velma visibly cringes. "Please don't call me that."

Daphne laughs, and it sounds genuine, so Velma takes it as a victory. She thinks for a second.

"... Do you really need my help?" Daphne only nods in response. Velma rocks on her heels. "Well. Grace is a really casual boss. She wouldn't mind if you stopped by when I'm on break." 

Daphne perks up. "Really?" She almost squeals, her face lighting up so bright it makes Velma feel warm. "That would be - so, so helpful. I think Ms Warton's gonna kill me if I don't go up a grade in english lit."

Velma nods, a bit stiffly. 

She's not sure that this is the best idea.

If there's any good thing that's come out of her spending all of her time at school, at work, or at home, and therefore not seeing Daphne constantly, it's that she's becoming a bit less dependant on seeing Daphne constantly. Over the last year, she's reached the point where any time Daphne isn't around things just feel dull - like the colours all dim a bit and nothing feels as important. Daphne became the core that her whole life revolves around. And that, itself, isn't something she has a problem with. But because of this constant exposure, her resolve to secrecy was slowly chipping away, and she'd started feeling a confession on her tongue the second the sun reflected on Daphne's highlight the right way. Which is terrifying. So she decided that this job would be good for her - good for distancing herself.

It hadn't quite worked yet, though. Now she just spends every lunch completely deaf to Fred's latest rant about the declining quality of mystery crime shows and instead testing how long she can get away with staring at Daphne before anyone notices. Absence makes the heart grow stronger, and all that jazz. 

"Where's your mom?" Velma asks in a poor attempt to subtly change the subject. Daphne takes the bait, though, moving away from the kitchen counter to fiddle around with the contents of her bag, probably moving everything into the same Tetris-esque layout she always likes to keep it in. 'It keeps my books neat and my lunch un-crushed', she always says. 

"Gym," Daphne sighs out, pulling out her makeup mirror and checking on her eyeliner. It's perfect, as always.

"I thought she quit?"

Daphne giggles - one of the cutest Daphne Things. "She's quit every month for the last year. Her fitness journeys been a bit wonky."

She doesn't react for a second and Daphne glances at her, and all Velma can think to do is shake her head fondly. "She doesn't even need a fitness journey, she's already plenty healthy."

"That's what I keep saying!" Daphne lightly smacks the table with her palm indignantly, with no real anger behind it. "It's like she's already perfect but she's overcompensating because she just - she doesn't get it, or something. And she's going about it so weirdly! She banned white bread from the house last week, I have to eat bread with seeds!"

A bunch of Daphne's hair has fallen over her eye in her dramatics, and Velma finds herself staring at it a stupid amount. She grins at the goofiness. "I'm sure you'll live, Daph."

"Next she's gonna get rid of pasta, and I'll starve to death, I swear to god."

"Nope," Velma says quickly, popping the 'p'. "Just come to mine, I'll cook you pasta. We even have normal bread." She feels a twinge of embarrassment when she realises how grossly domestic that sounds.

"We're so grossly domestic," Daphne laughs, and she's fine again. Daphne glances at her phone to check the time. "Is Fred picking us up? Class starts in, like, twenty minutes."

Velma nods. "I told him I'd be here, and Shaggy slept at his last night. He'll probably just be a few minutes if he's coming straight here."

Daphne’s phone lights up with a text from Shaggy, and and so does she not even a second later when they hear a honk from outside. She seems a lot like normal Daphne now - the anxious look in her eye is gone, replaced with something like giddiness, despite the long day of class ahead of her. "We summoned them," she says, shouldering her bad and strutting to the door. Velma takes a moment to keep her grin in check before following.

\--

Fred grabs her wrist before she can climb out of the van.

She turns to look at him only to see he's staring back at her with pretty desperate eyes, so she slowly sits down again while the other two get hop out of the back, closing the double doors behind them. Fred signals at them through the window to go on ahead - Shaggy just smiles and nods, while Daphne frowns, seemingly unsure. Velma tries for a reassuring smile, and a second later they're walking out of the student car park and towards the school gates. Velma turns back to Fred, who has let go of her arm and is now fidgeting the edge of his shirt. 

"Uh," she clears her throat. The air around him seems heavy. "What do you wanna talk about?"

He seems to struggle to look at her dead on, instead glancing around them. He stares at the Star Wars air freshener for a second before speaking. "So. You're gay."

She doesn't move. "Yeah? So are you."

"Did you ever, like," Fred's face seems to be getting redder with every word he says, and leaning an arm on the steering wheel like that would cover it up, somehow. She's never seen him this flustered before. "Properly come out to people at school? Because I can't remember you ever not, you know, being all open about it, and stuff."

"... Well," she says, slowly, giving herself time to remember. Now that she thinks about it, she never really questioned it. She remembers realising she liked girls when she was eleven, and after that she just bought it up when it was relevant. She didn't want to cause a big fuss about it. She remembers her mom almost dropping a plate the first time she mentioned it in casual conversation, and how she'd sat her down and lectured her on the importance of thinking things through and considering your words, but that's really it. Her and her parents don't really talk about it. And with people at school - well. It's all anyone knows about her. "No, not really. I've never 'come out' to anyone. Why?"

Fred frowns down at his knuckles, and Velma makes a quiet 'oh' of understanding. Fred never really opens up about himself at school. Their group knows about him being gay, and so do his family, but at school everyone just knows him as the blonde jock-type that everyone likes. He's always smiling, always helping other people with their lives, but he never sees the need to tell people about his own. He's not closed off, per say, he just doesn't think it's relevant. Or, he hasn't until now. "Has someone said something to you?" She says, her tone taking on an edge.

"A little?" He shoots back with a shrug, laughing nervously. She tenses. "Nothing bad, or anything. Some guys on the team were giving me some weird looks after I talked to Shaggy the other day, and, uh, one of them nearly asked me something before coach called us in." He's talking about it casually, but she can tell he's uncomfortable. She places her hand on his arm for a second, and he smiles. "None of them seemed angry or judgemental, or anything. Just curious."

"Oh," she nods, hearing how relieved her own voice sounds. "Good. Do you... want to tell them, then?"

"Yeah. Especially since me and Shaggy are, you know-"

"Disgusting," she says fondly.

Fred grins. "Yeah. Disgusting."

"Why haven't you talked to him about it?"

"I did. He didn't know what to say, either," Fred chuckles a little. "His parents asked him if he was bi, you know? They went to him first."

Velma hums in understanding. Shaggy, bless him, has always been so obvious about how he feels about Fred. Even before they banded together as a friend group, back when her and Shaggy would sit next to each other at lunch because she was the antisocial one and Shaggy was bullied for not talking as easily as everyone else, Shaggy would stare at him from across the playground like an Elizabethan heroine pining after a handsome visitor. She remembers asking him about it when she slept over at his house once, and Shaggy had said that he was just jealous of Fred's big group of friends and endless supply of nice shirts. She never believed him.

Thinking back to the matter at hand, she hums. "To be honest, I don't think I can help you?" She stares out the front window for a second, considering. "I mean. I'm not exactly the most emotionally sensitive person, and I've never navigated that kind of conversation before. Maybe you could ask Daphne."

He frowns. "Daphne?"

"She came out to her parents properly, right? She's probably got some advice."

"I... sure. That makes sense," he sounds pensive, and he seems to consider her for a second. She's not used to Fred looking at her like that - hesitant and calculating, like she's a minefield he has to cross. "Has Daph said anything to you recently?"

She smirks. "You mean, have we talked?"

"No," he huffs. "I mean, has she said anything weird?"

"Um. Well, she was in a weird mood this morning, I guess. She said she's been stressed because I've been too busy to help her study." She's not at all sheepish to admit it - she knows she's a valuable tutor. It makes sense. "It's all fine now, though. I said we could study in my breaks at work."

Fred's expression doesn't change. "Ah. Okay. I'm glad you sorted that out."

She gives him an odd look, suddenly hyper aware that Daphne could have told him something she doesn't know, but having no idea what. Everyone's been more secretive lately. They hadn't found out about Fred and Shaggy getting together until a month after it happened (not that they were surprised), and now every time she mentions Daphne everyone acts like shes stupid. It makes her more uncomfortable than she'd like to admit, the idea that she's not being trusted. Their group was the only friend group she's ever really had. She wants them to talk to her - she just doesn't know how she'd say that without sounding like she's prying. 

She sighs instead. Fred came to her with something important and she's making it all about herself. This is why people don't talk to her about their problems. "Hey," she says, worrying her bottom lip slightly. "Uh. I hope it goes well, ok? I'm sure it will, but we'll be here for you if it doesn't." She faintly hears the bell ring.

He smiles. "Thanks, Velm. You, uh. You don't have anything you want to talk about, do you?"

Stiffly, Velma shakes her head. "The bells gone." Without waiting for a response, she climbs out of the van faster than she thought she could. Fred seems to pause for a second in surprise, before scrambling to follow her, stuttering something about how opening the door that quickly will break it, it's an old car, _my dad won't pay for my replacements anymore, Velma!_

\--- 

Alice looks up at her when she walks into Spanish. Velma quickly looks past her to find Daphne doing the same (with a much happier expression) and she walks past Daphne's desk and flicks her forehead as she goes, earning her a laugh and a middle finger.

She's always loved Spanish - she loves all of her subjects, really, but this ones pretty special because she's already halfway to fluent. She can do the entry level work they're given in half the time they're given to do it, because since when has a high school language class ever evolved beyond entry level, and she can spend the rest of the time subtly doing her own thing. 'Her own thing' on this context usually means getting permission to get her headphones out and listen to music, and drawing stupid things she can drop on Daphne's desk. As much as she prides herself on her academic achievements, she hasn't quite managed to master the arts, but she can still draw a convincing ginger stick man.

When she takes her seat she thinks feels a pair of violet eyes on her, but by the time she turns around all she sees is Daphne and Alice staring each other down for a minute, faces stony. She watches, baffled, as Alice crumbles and looks away, leaving Daphne to grin smugly and flip her hair as she turns to the front of the room again.

Velma tries to make eye contact with her to silently ask what the hell that was. She is ignored.

\--

"Ok," Velma exhales, leaning back in her creaking plastic chair and holding up in front of her the piece of scrap paper she's been noting on for the last twenty minutes. "If this is all you want to cover, we can get them all done if we switch topics every few days, providing we do this everyday. Sound good?"

Daphne gives a thumbs up, drawing a fond smile out of her. "Sounds good, teach."

They hear a damp rag slap against a tabletop out on the main floor and approaching footsteps, before Alice pokes her head around the doorway, looking disgruntled. "Are you two done? You're, like, five minutes over your break."

Velma's smiles smoothes out and Alice disappears from the doorway again. "What is there for me to do? You've just been cleaning tables all day."

There's a distant screech of 'Help me clean them, then!', and Velma rolls her eyes at Daphne, who's leaning back in her chair and smirking. "Is she always that bratty?"

"Sadly. Are you staying? Grace said she doesn't mind as long as you're not in the way."

The first time she had bought Daphne back to the break room - after asking for permission, of course - Grace had come down from her office at least six times to offer to make her a drink, and one of these offers had turned into a full, thirty minute conversation about the pros and cons of digital art versus traditional. This was also the first time Velma had learned that Grace is an artist. In the space of a few days, Grace has completely accepted Daphne as a welcome presence in the cafe, and Velma isn't really surprised. She's very charming with new people.

Daphne shakes her head, gathering up her stuff and dumping it unceremoniously in her bag, apparently too tired to care about organisation. "Nah, I'm going to Fred's tonight. He said we have to talk about something important." Velma tries not to let her disappointment show. Over the last few days of study sessions, she's been thinking about how much more pleasant the walk home is when she's walking with Daphne for half of it. Daphne stands and shoulders her backpack. "Any idea what that could mean?"

Velma hesitates. "Well. I know something's going on with him and his team. So, maybe that?"

They're both walking to the door slowly, and Velma likes to think that Daphne is trying to prolong the conversation as much as she is. Daphne scrunches up her nose a little. "I still don't know how I feel about those guys. I don't think any of them remember our names."

Velma rolls her eyes and mutters something inaudibly about them definitely knowing who Daphne is (everyone knows her - even if not personally). "I don't think they're that bad. A bit... obnoxious, maybe. But not bad."

Daphne looks at her in mild surprise, and she frowns back. "What?"

Seeming to realise herself, Daphne shakes her head, smiling a little. "Nothing, you're just usually a bit more... uh, cynical about people, I guess."

Velma shrugs. Unlike what one would expect from a high school football team, she'd never heard anyone say a bad word about the current batch - they didn't seem to bully anyone, and a few of them seem like people that even she could get along with. On top of that, Fred had texted her the night before to say that he had come out to them like he said he would, and they were fine about it - they had just been acting weird because they wanted their suspicions confirmed. One of them had even gone up to him and hugged him, and asked him what his type was, because Fred is 'too handsome to be single, even if he's gay' - which, ok, could have been phrased better, but at least he was trying. After that Fred apparently mentioned his boyfriend, and this was met with many claps on the shoulder and 'nice, dude's.

So they couldn't be all that bad.

There's also the fact that she has this memory that she's never really shaken, and it's one of the first times she and Daphne had ever really talked, and it never really struck her as important until the last year or so. Velma had managed to capture and escort a spider outside of the classroom, and when she had sat back down afterwards, the pretty girl who always talked about wanting to dye her hair ginger had stared at her and smiled. Velma had asked what she was looking at. Daphne said that she knew Velma wasn't as mean as people said she was. 

"I'm trying to be nicer. It doesn't feel great to assume the worst of everyone all the time."

"And what brought that on?" Daphne asks, smiling. Her hand is hanging right next to Velma's, and Velma wants to hold it.

_You_. "I don't need a reason to be nicer to people."

"Oh. That's true," Daphne nods, looking pleasantly dazed. "I know you probably do have a reason, but yeah. Good point."

"My points are always good."

"Doubtful."

"That must be the secret of our friendship," Velma says, feeling giddiness rise up in her throat at the easy teasing. "The nicer I am, the meaner you become."

Daphne feigns offence. "I've never been mean in my life."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"It isn't! I balance you out with my niceness. That's why you keep me around - I'm the yin to your yang. The black to your white. The honey to your vinegar-"

"Okay, that's enough," Velma interrupts, meekly holding up a halting hand, and Daphne laughs deeply, like she's using her whole body to do it. The kind of laugh she only laughs around her. Velma smiles subtly, eyes turned to the floor, and she opens her mouth to say something before she realises they're out of the break room and now behind the counter, and Alice is staring at them, and this has been the situation for at least a minute now. Alice smirks at her and she feels the tip of her ears blush. She glances at Daphne and finds her face carefully blank.

Huh.

Daphne clears her throat a little and lightly touches Velma's shoulder to get her attention again. "I'm gonna go, ok? I'll see you tomorrow." She pauses. "Morning. With Fred and Shaggy."

Not fully understanding the sudden awkwardness, Velma nods. "See you tomorrow."

Daphne nods back jerkily and smiles - and even if it's tense and probably fake, it's still pretty, and she's reminded that Daphne can pull of any lip colour because her yellow lipstick still looks clean like it had been applied minutes ago. Daphne worms her way around the counter and towards the door, her white platform boots punctuating every step. Alice waves at her with a sarcastic smile, and Daphne glares back, before swinging the door open and leaving with more force than she probably needed to.

Huh.

"What was that for?" she asks the second the door shuts, leaning with her elbows on the counter surface, looking at Alice with narrowed eyes. She's still cleaning a table that Velma is sure she saw her cleaning an hour ago, but that's just how slow it is in the cafe some days. They don't have many regulars. Despite her task needing no focus at all, Alice stays focused and doesn't look up at the question, like she was expecting it. Now that Velma thinks about it, she definitely was. 

"What was what for?"

"That look. You know." The question hangs for a second, and Alice still doesn't look up, but her expression is definitely telling. Telling of what, she's not sure, but still. Telling. "You're always like that with Daphne and I can never figure out why."

Alice scoffs quietly. "Not the only thing you've never figured out."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Velma lets out a quiet, frustrated grunt. "I want to remind you that you don't know me as well as you think you do."

Alice hums in mock agreement, still focused on the circular motions she's making with her cleaning rag, very obviously thinking she knows Velma as well as she thinks she does. For a second, the air around them is still, until Velma has to restrain herself from huffing and she turns and walks into the kitchen.

She really wants to know what's going on with those two.

For as long as she can remember, they've just been aggressively silent towards each other - they never acknowledged the other, always avoided eye contact, and probably refused to admit they knew each other's name. She'd never asked Daphne about it - she'd just assumed that Alice had bullied her or a friend at some point in their childhood, or something like that, and the anger over that never really faded. Daphne has a knack for staying petty about people. She's lovely to mostly everyone she meets, but if someone fucks up twice, they're out of her good books permanently. Being in Daphne's bad books didn't mean arguments or fights - it just meant cold hard exile from her life. 

But in the last month or so, every time she's seen them in the same room, the tension has seemed so much more... tense. They stare at each other, mainly, and the staring is usually very threatening, as if either of them are ready to pounce the second the other makes a wrong move. Actually, no - Alice actually seems to be enjoying it, kinda. _Daphne_ is ready to pounce the second _Alice_ makes a wrong move. Which just isn't like her at all.

The most frustrating part is that she really can't think of anything that would've triggered it. It must have been around the time she started her job at the cafe - so maybe something happened while she was distracted with all of that, and she's only noticing now that she's more relaxed? Maybe? 

There's a loud scraping that sounds like Alice violently shoving a chair under a table.

"Velma! Are you gonna help me or what?"

Really fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Velma drags herself back out onto the main floor, grabbing a rag and some surface cleaner on her way. They really don't need to do this, but she's too distracted to argue. She would ask Grace if there was anything else important to do, but she doesn't even know if Grace is in today. She hasn't seen her at all. Hopping up onto the stool behind the counter, lazily wiping at the surface, she looks at Alice calculatingly.

She doesn't know if Alice likes girls at all, but it's worth it to ask.

"Alice."

"Hm?"

"Has anything happened between you and Daphne?"

This makes Alice pause, turning to look at Velma with suspicious eyes. "Are you asking what I think you're-"

"Yes." She swallows a lump of anxiety. "Did it end badly, or something? Is that why you're acting like this?"

Red rises up Alice's face as her expression moves through shocked to embarrassed to offended all in the space of a few seconds. She opens and closes her mouth incredulously, and just as it seems like she's gonna say something, the bell rings and a customer comes in, so casually, as if he hasn't just single handedly stopped World War 3. Velma snaps into autopilot, greeting him and asking for his order, but in the corner of her eye she can see Alice staring at her in furious amazement.

That's probably a yes, right? Or at least Alice wants it to be a yes. And Daphne's been acting even worse than she has, which means -

She almost drops the man's change.

_Oh_ , fuck.


End file.
